


Interpretive

by ToFightOrToFlee



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: American Sign Language, Autistic Sonic the Hedgehog, Brotherly Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Sign Language, Sort of? - Freeform, but uh here i guess, eggman's only mentioned like twice, i can't believe i forgot those tags they're so important, i didn't count, i know it's been years since i've posted, i think, if anything here is really wrong or disrespectful PLEASE let me know so i can fix it or take it out, it's really vague but still kind of there, not to hurt or offend anyone, selectively mute sonic, sign language is interesting and kind of personal to me, that should be a tag, this is meant to kind of explore that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToFightOrToFlee/pseuds/ToFightOrToFlee
Summary: Most nights, Tails would be more upset about being woken up in the middle of the night when Eggman isn't looming on the horizon, threatening world domination. He values his sleep, thank you very much.Tonight isn't most nights.
Relationships: None
Comments: 10
Kudos: 113





	Interpretive

**Author's Note:**

> like i said in the tags, please, please let me know if this offends anyone or is inaccurate in any way. as someone who isn't selectively mute/nonverbal, i tried to be as respectful as possible, but it's hard to fully understand or express something you've never experienced yourself. i'm always willing to listen and fix things if someone needs me to. don't be afraid to reach out. i won't bite.

“Hey, Sonic,” Tails mumbled, pushing himself up onto his elbows and blinking rapidly. The light from the hallway was a bit too bright for his sleepy eyes, but Sonic didn’t seem to notice. All Tails could see was a smudge of blue and peach, surrounded by a pale yellow glow. “What’s up? Is it Eggman?” Sonic didn’t answer out loud. The blur that was Sonic’s head blurred even further, but Tails couldn’t tell if he was nodding or shaking his head. Either way, he started fumbling to get up, peeling the blanket away from his waist and shifting upright. 

He didn’t even manage to get to his feet before Sonic was abruptly standing at the edge of the bed, hands on his shoulders to push him back down. From that close, Tails could see that he was shaking his head, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin, distressed line. The scarce light spilling in from the door was just enough for Tails to make out the dark smudges under Sonic’s bloodshot eyes, and he frowned, reluctantly laying back on his pillows.

“So it’s not Eggman,” Tails said slowly, and Sonic gave a brief nod, thin shoulders slumping. Tails sighed, not sure if he was relieved or even more worried, sinking into his bed and letting his eyes fall half closed. Exhaustion was already trying to tug him back into the depths of sleep. 

“So then, what is it? Did you need something?” he asked, tipping his head slightly. Curiously enough,  _ that’s _ what caused Sonic to hesitate, eyes darting off to the side and fidgeting with his hands. His gloves were notably lacking, but Tails knew better than to stare. At least, until he realized Sonic was moving his hands deliberately, not idly. It took his normally quick brain a moment to realize it was sign language. 

It had been literal months since Sonic used sign language in front of him and years since Tails had. Scratch that - it had been months since Sonic used it for something other than a stealth mission. He’d gone on a trip with Shadow and Rouge not too long ago in a (thankfully successful) sneaky attempt to retrieve a Chaos Emerald from a shady guild of thieves, one they’d be better off not making enemies with. 

If Rouge’s report was accurate, Shadow had signed a string of complicated directions at Sonic, forgetting he wasn’t a G.U.N. Agent that was required to know at least basic fingerspelling signs. But before he had the chance to backtrack and restate the directions verbally, assuming Sonic hadn’t understood him, the blue blur had signed back an affirmative, then took off to complete his assigned task flawlessly. Her added note that Shadow’s face had been priceless was amusing, but unnecessary.

The fact that Sonic was using it while he was safe at home, refusing to utter a word, was concerning.

“Wait, wait, slow down.” Ignoring the futility of telling someone like Sonic to slow down, Tails sat up with a yawn, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up. He turned to fully face his hedgehog brother, letting his legs hang over the side of the bed and leaning back on his hands. “Do that again. Slower, please. I didn’t catch it.” Sonic gave an inaudible sigh, faintly irritated that he had to repeat himself. He touched four fingers to his mouth, then brought his hand down in an arc, palm flat to the ground and a slight frown on his face. Then he took a single finger and pointed towards his forehead, waving it twice as he moved it away.

_ BAD DREAM, _ Tails translated, ears drooping with realization. 

“Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so? I can make popcorn or something and we can watch those cruddy romance movies Amy likes. Guess we’re lucky we don’t have anything to do tomorrow. We can sleep in. I mean, unless Eggman really does show up.” He didn’t let Sonic stop him again as he slid off the bed, stretching his arms up and out. His tails waved lazily, just as tired as the rest of him as he walked past Sonic to the door, wearing only his socks. He heard soft footsteps behind him a moment later, and then Sonic was out the door before he could reach it. The sound of ceramic mugs clinking together met his ears a second later. He found himself smiling and shaking his head as he altered his route to the living room. 

Sonic always was better at cooking, oddly enough. Despite how good Tails was with chemical formulas and scientific equations, the magic of cooking an edible meal evaded his grasp. Sonic thought it was hilarious up until Tails guilt-tripped him into trying one of his homemade lasagnas, puppy dog eyes on full blast. The poor hedgehog couldn’t look at pasta the same for weeks after.

Tails absently picked up a pillow from the couch, then sat down, wedging it between himself and the armrest. He could still hear Sonic clanking about in the kitchen, so he settled on picking a movie for them to watch.

He was debating on two with similarly horrifying ratings when Sonic walked in, mismatched mugs in hand. One was mildly disfigured and obviously handcrafted, glazed a patchy azure blue with “SONIC” scrawled across the side in red. The other was also blue, but sky-colored and store-bought with a cute cartoon cat printed on the front. When they bought it, Sonic had slyly commented about all the  _ cat _ -ppuccinos Tails was going to use it for. It was almost enough for the fox to change his mind about getting it.

“Thanks,” Tails said softly as Sonic passed him the cat mug, carefully settling down in the spot to Tails’ right. The hedgehog used his newly freed hand to sign a quick  _ YOU’RE WELCOME, _ taking the remote Tails abandoned on the couch to press play on whatever movie he left it idle at. Then he leaned back, hardly noticing when one of Tails’ namesakes slipped behind him like a makeshift pillow, and let his eyelids droop. 

Tails pretty much ignored the movie in its entirety, taking slow, careful sips of his hot chocolate (six marshmallows, two scoops of chocolate mix, and the slightest bit of vanilla, just the way he liked it). He kept stealing glances at Sonic, who only held his drink in both hands like a lifeline for an entire seven minutes before draining it all in one go and setting the empty mug on the coffee table. He was staring at the screen, but Tails got the feeling he wasn’t watching the movie, either. His gaze was too far away. 

Tails only had a very vague idea of what Sonic’s “bad dream” could had been about, and most of it was based on speculation, not on what the hedgehog himself told him directly. When they were younger, Sonic seemed to have more trouble than most people did trying to get words and sentences to form. Tails had assumed it was a basic lack of education, but soon enough, he’d realized it was more than that. It hadn’t been that Sonic didn’t know the words for what he wanted to say. It was that he couldn’t get his brain to cooperate with his mouth, leading to stilted sentence fragments with no context and a lot of self-frustration and embarrassment. He couldn’t figure out if it was the hedgehog’s mouth going too fast for his brain to keep up or vice versa. 

From what Tails gathered from context clues and vague hints, quite a few people had picked fun at his brother for it when he was younger, possibly even  _ abusing _ him for something he couldn’t help. And Tails had reason to believe Sonic’s mysteriously absent parents were two of those people. It would explain why he was always so nervous and jumpy around Vanilla and anyone else over twenty that showed even the slightest parental tendencies in his vicinity. 

If Tails hadn’t witnessed the development himself, he would’ve found it hard to believe the self-conscious, irritable, flighty child he knew back then was the confident, easy-going, reliable teen he knew currently. But right then, with Sonic almost obsessively smoothing down the fur on his arms and peering around the room like he was trying to find the quickest escape route with a look in his eye that spoke of one too many restless nights, it wasn’t so hard to believe anymore.

He took the final sip of his cold chocolate, setting the mug down with a purposeful thunk. Sonic visibly twitched, ears and eyes flicking towards the sound. Tails could feel the prick of blue quills through the thick fur of his tail. He let out a sigh, leaning back and folding his hands over his stomach.

“Can you tell me what it was about?” he asked quietly, fully prepared to accept a rejection. The last few times he’d asked, Sonic was all too quick to dismiss himself entirely from the conversation. He didn’t expect any different. But to his surprise, Sonic opened his mouth, closed it, huffed through his nose, and lifted his hands.

_ CHILD ME NOT FUN, _ was what he ended up signing, slow and halting. Tails blinked, trying to make sense of that.

“So, you dreamed that… your child self was there and you had to fight him?” A head shake. “Fighting Eggman before you had friends to help?” Another head shake. “...Bad memories from when you were little?” A pause, then a reluctant nod. Tails wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. “Do you… um. Do you wanna tell me about it?”  _ Talk _ being relative, of course. He wasn’t sure if he’d even get Sonic talking again that night. 

He supposed it didn’t matter anyway when Sonic brought his fingers together in a sharp  _ NO, _ shaking his head vigorously. Then he did it again, slower and more deliberate when he took in the complicated expression on Tails’ face. Tails himself wasn’t even sure what he was feeling, much less expressing. It was probably something bad considering Sonic looked like a scolded child.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to,” he mumbled, trying not to sound hurt or disappointed. He expected it, after all. It didn’t stop Sonic’s ears from flattening. “I’m gonna… I think I’m gonna go wash these.” He sat up and reached out for the mugs, slipping his tail out from behind his brother. It was obviously an excuse to drop the subject since he never volunteered to do dishes  _ ever _ and there were still piles of them next to the sink, but he’d take it over an awkward, stony silence. He blinked when Sonic followed him up, fist resting on his open palm, then lifted both hands up in a firm sign for  _ HELP. _ The fox shrugged. “Sure, you can help, but it’s just a couple dishes. You don’t have to.”  _ HELP. _ Sonic grabbed Tails’ arm and practically dragged him into the kitchen, plugging the sink and starting the water.

They ended up washing much more than just the mugs in the end. By the time half an hour passed, for the first time in weeks, all the dishes were washed, dried, and put away. It felt significant somehow, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. They both knew they could’ve been done in five minutes if they really wanted to, but Sonic seemed to appreciate the more Tails-appropriate speed, relaxing more and more with every dripping dish his little brother passed him. Once the last plate was wiped dry and stuffed into the cabinets, Tails felt his eyes starting to droop once more, letting out a wide yawn that Sonic caught.

“I can’t believe we just did chores at… what time is it, even?” He rubbed his hands over his face, barely seeing Sonic’s dismissive shrug out of the corner of his eye. He sighed, mimicking the shrug, and gave a weak little smile. “D’you think you can get back to sleep now or do you still need me?” He didn’t like the way Sonic hesitated, but he brought his fist up anyway, knocking it forward at the same time as his head in a confident  _ YES. _ He felt his smile grow wider. “Alright, that’s good! Then I’ll, um. Probably get back to sleep now, too. G’night, Sonic.” Sonic managed to grin back, holding his left arm parallel to the floor, then touching the fingers of his right hand to his lips before letting it drop down to rest on top of his left. Then he held his hand up with his thumb, pinky, and pointer extended, raising it upward and twisting it twice. His first sign name besides his own.

_ GOOD NIGHT TAILS. _

Tails took that as permission to turn and shuffle back to his room, scrubbing his fists over his eyes again with another stifled yawn. He heard Sonic heading for his own room, and just before he closed the door, he heard it. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face if he tried, and it followed him into sleep.

“Thanks, buddy.”

**Author's Note:**

> ✌️


End file.
